


Plaything II

by icedteainthebag



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 03:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11569032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedteainthebag/pseuds/icedteainthebag
Summary: Scully gets hers. Sequel toPlaything.





	Plaything II

**Author's Note:**

> All my love to gay man on the blog @slightly-northofeden for his dick advice and to @somekindofseizure for helping me with a key part near the end.

He slowly wakes up in the dark, a sliver of light cast from the bathroom across her bed. He hears the rushing water of the sink, hears it cut off, and smiles when he realizes she’s probably cleaning up the mess he made. His dick twitches in memory of pounding her glorious ass.

She exits the bathroom and he watches her silhouetted figure make its way to the end of the bed. He can make out her breasts, the curve of her hip, the bare apex of her thighs. 

She climbs up over his body, silent, her knees settling on either side of his chest. She sits; he feels her warmth, which sends a current from the point of contact down to his groin.

“Hey,” he says playfully, reaching up to cup a breast.

Scully grabs his wrist and shoves it away, pinning it to the mattress. Her other hand grabs the top of his head and she pulls his hair, making him wince as tiny pricks of discomfort tingle on his scalp. She looks at him from above with her head cocked, breathing more heavily than before. Her teeth graze her bottom lip. His dick responds accordingly, flopping around behind her bare ass.

“I don’t know if you know, but there’s a lot of science behind giving the perfect blow job,” she begins, fingers twisting into his hair more deeply. He can barely hear her. He can barely move his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever given one, but you’ve inspired me to try.”

“Fuck,” he replies, not moving but for the twiddling of his toes. 

“Yeah, fuck,” she echoes, leaning down. Her lips are so close. “But… in order to do that… “

He nods his head instinctively in anticipation and she yanks it back down against the mattress, his neck fully extended to her. That’s where her lips go--his neck. That’s what makes his dick one hundred percent harder. He feels her teeth. “To do that, you’re going to do exactly…” She nips his skin. “What I tell you...” Nip. “To do.”

“Okay.” He gasps as she bites a little too hard.

“And I get to do whatever I want to do.” She slides her butt downward and he swears he can feel her already wet against his belly button. Just inches from his cock, mere inches. Her body is now stretched against him, hot breasts against his chest, breath on his neck.

“Yes.” Yes, fucking yes.

Her eyelids seem heavy as she lets go of his hair and gives him the softest kiss on the lips. “Good.”

“What is this?” she asks, reaching around behind her and grasping at his shameless erection. “Is this for me?”

“Always.” He sucks a deep breath in as she strokes it.

“Mmmmm.” She slides her butt lower, lifts her body only slightly to settle herself down right on it, hands palpating his hard belly. It’s an instant heat. “Hmmm.”

Scully rocks gently back and forth, his cock sliding haphazardly around the wetness that he’s helping spread over her pussy lips. Slick and friction, pressure and release. His cockhead keeps tapping her clit and the idea that it’s sending her pleasure makes him grab her hips in desperation.

Predictably, she encircles his wrists with her tiny fingers and pushes his hands back to the bed. “Keep them there.”

“Okay.” He is so not okay.

He feels her inner lips gracing his dick now, kissing if they could, and she makes soft sounds as she grinds down on him, her breasts gently swaying with the motion.

“I could come like this,” she sighs with a moan.

“I mean, me too,” he offers.

She laughs, a punctuation mark. She slithers down, her face passes his erection with a breath, and she spreads his knees with her hands. He bends them so he can see her framed between his thighs.

“I bet you taste good with me on you.” One broad lap of her tongue up the bottom of his shaft, a show. He can see her staring up at him. “Oh, yes.” She does it again, pleasure and agony burning deep in his groin. He reminds himself he’s in this for the long haul. It’s going to be a tough road ahead.

Her tongue spins around the head of his dick, flat and sloppy, and he can’t think about how she’s tasting herself or he’s going to blow in that very moment. His fingers pull at the sheet, begging to move, and he focuses on his breathing.

Then he feels one of her hands cupping his balls firmly, squeezing one testicle and then the other, while her tongue works his shaft like a Bomb Pop in the July heat. Lick, lick, swirl. Squeeze. Lick, lick, swirl.

“Did you know that your scrotum…” She gently rolls his testicles in her hand, like they’re Baoding balls. “… has approximately as many nerve endings as my vagina?”

“God,” he groans.

“You want me to suck them, don’t you?”

His arousal is heightened. “Yeahhh.”

He feels her mouth, hot and wet, pulling one ball in past her lips. She sucks firmly, tongue swirling, and his hips buck at the sensation. She moves to the other one, same drill, same lightning bolt of sensation going up his spine. Too good, too good. His dick swells in anticipation, hard enough to hurt for a moment.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” she breathes. Her short red hair falls over one side of her face. “How am I gonna fit this all in my mouth?”

“I… don’t…”

“Don’t worry,” she says, the tip of her tongue dipping into the precum forming at the tip of his cock. “I’ve been practicing.”

 _I’ve been practicing_. The three words create searing thoughts of Scully slowly sliding things down her throat which distract him for approximately five seconds until he feels her sliding the head of his cock into her mouth. Her lip-covered teeth graze over the bump where head meets shaft and he closes his eyes with a moan. She hums and pulls her head up. The cool air that hits him is a terrible shock. “That ridge around your glans… probably the most sensitive spot on a dick.” And then she runs her tongue around it and he shudders, shoving his hands under his ass so he doesn’t grab her head.

“Are you going to talk through this whole thing?”

The whirls of her tongue stop. His balls are given a tug, a jolt of pleasure and pain. “Are you telling me what to do?”

“No…” 

“Oh. You’re telling me what _not_ to do.”

The shifting of her weight off of the bed is one of the most despairing things he’s felt in the past six months, at least. He opens his eyes and watches her as she contemplates the floor. He doesn’t know whether to tell her to come back or to lie in agony hoping she returns. 

She leans over, head out of view, and when she stands back up she has his pants in hand. She makes quick work of sliding the belt out of its loops and he silently swallows the lump in his throat.

“Special Agent _Fox_ Mulder…” she says, swinging the belt like a pendulum ever so slightly in front of her naked body. “What were the rules?”

She walks around the foot of the bed to the nightstand as he answers. “Do what you tell me to do.”

“And?” Her fingers hook into the drawer pull and open it. How is his cock responding to this? Shockingly well.

“You get to do what you want.”

“Without question.” She rummages, the same teasing rummage he pulled on her hours ago. She pulls out a silver vibrating bullet with a remote attached, flips it up into her palm and slams the drawer shut. “Lay your legs flat on the bed.”

He immediately slides them down the sheet, at attention in more ways than one. She’s at the side of the bed and, without expression or further comment, she lifts his scrotum away from his body with the precision of a physician and places the bullet underneath. She lays it back down, the remote beside his hip, and he is seconds away from fucking all this up and grabbing her ass to make a savage attempt at punishing her pussy for all of this. 

But, almost as if she detects it, she slinks to the foot of the bed and grabs his ankles, pressing them together. He realizes her next move a split second before she does it.

She wraps the belt twice around his ankles, binding them tightly together with an exaggerated pull meant to teach him a lesson, no doubt, then fastens it. 

“No questions, no arguing,” she says, running her hands up his legs as the hairs prickle up with goosebumps. Her breasts graze his thighs before as she mounts him at the knees. “This is how I like my Mulder.”

“Good,” he manages, his cock bobbing in enthusiastic agreement.

“Sometimes you need to shut the fuck up,” she says, lapping at the palm of her hand before sucking his dick into her mouth. He groans, teeth gritted, as warm pleasure radiates around him. Two more seconds and she’s inched him deeper, sucking like she’s drawing a thick milkshake through an inadequately small straw. She waits, then slides him even deeper, her tongue flat against the bottom of his shaft. He feels her swallow around the head and can’t help but curse aloud at the sensation. He looks down and sees half of him buried, and she takes her spit-wet hand and begins to slowly twist at the exposed base of his cock. 

With every slight movement deeper into her throat he wants to die, he’s going to die, no he doesn’t want to die, he wants to come, but not yet, he threatens himself. 

Her tongue shifts barely against him, and then in one smooth move she slips him out, pops her lips over the head with a glorious smacking noise. One hand still gripping his length, she grabs the remote to the bullet and turns it on, but barely. The lightest buzz nearly jerks him upright, making his balls quiver. He instinctively tries to bend his legs and remembers he’s bound at the ankles. She smiles and says nothing, going down on him again now with the enthusiasm of someone who has a most specific agenda. Whirling, sucking, flicking the tip of her tongue against the sensitive spots around his dick. His hips begin to buck and he feels his balls tightening.

“Don’t come, Mulder,” she warns between mouthfuls of cock.

“I won’t.” He only half believes his breathless self. Her hair tickles his thighs on every downstroke of her mouth and he begins whimpering in succession. And as quickly as she began, she stops.

“Take it easy.” 

She rolls off of him, picks up the remote, and turns the bullet on high.

“Fuck,” he nearly screams as the bullet wiggles down against his taint. Electric everywhere.

“Don’t fucking come.” She turns the bullet down, gives him a chance to breathe, then it goes high again. 

“Jesus Christ, Scully, fuck, Scully…” His hips punctuate his words with tiny thrusts. “I’m gonna…”

“No.” The bullet’s vibrations dull again and she rubs her cheek against his erection. “Not yet.”

And he watches her watch him come down from the edge, not knowing what the fuck is coming next.

She must have been planning this for weeks. He thinks about her crafty little mind daydreaming about torturing his dick and balls while they were driving around, or in the office, or at night while she touched herself alone in her bed.

“You owe me an orgasm,” she says.

“Yeah?” He focused on his deep breathing and trying to control what could possibly be the biggest load of cum in his life.

She climbs onto the bed and straddles his face, lying her belly down upon his chest like a weight to keep him in place. He’s instantly surrounded by the smell of her, his mouth covering her soaked pussy lips and hungrily, humbly beginning to take her.

He feels her hand stroking his dick, a strong grip, her palm twisting upon the engorged head like she’s squeezing an orange, making juice. He groans and finds her clit, sucking and lapping at it in a desperate attempt to reciprocate some of the torture she’s bestowing upon him.

She coos his name, tells him yeah, grinds her wetness so hard down on his face that he can’t find a way to breathe for a moment. His cheeks are covered with her when he’s finally given room to take a gasp of air through his nose. Her hips start a rhythm, teasing his face, making it harder for him to catch her hot, swollen clit in his lips.

“Come on, make me come,” she says, her hand now tightly gripping the base of his penis in some kind of new and terrible pleasure.

He can’t take it anymore, his hands limply suffering under his ass, so he pulls them out and grabs her thighs forcefully, pulling her firmly down upon his mouth. She wiggles and whimpers but there’s no escape now. She wants to come and she’s going to come. This he can control.

“Mulderrrrr,” she half-whines, half breathes, as her movements get erratic. He tongue fucks her quickly, gathering her wetness with indulgent swirls, then brings it up to her clit which he sucks into his mouth and repeatedly flicks his tongue over. It’s time, it’s time.

She bucks when she comes and he fears she’ll break his nose, fears the neighbors will hear her echoing cries, maybe even the whole neighborhood. Her thighs quiver under his hands. There you go, he thinks, unable to speak, keeping her clit captive beyond what he knows is a comfortable time and making her yank her sensitive body away.

Her wetness is cool upon his face, sticky as he licks his lips clean.

“Good boy,” she says, her body like a tiny spider on him as she turns around and mounts his cock, sliding down on him in warm, velvety relief. “Oh, such a good boy.”

She’s still, though, not a movement of her hips as she brings her hand to her clit and starts furiously rubbing it. Fuck this woman.

“Can I come?” he asks.

“Not yet.” A hitch in her breath and he can tell from her twitching muscles around him that she’s close again.

“You’re going to come on me and I can’t…”

“Yes,” she says firmly, now rocking her body against her hand. Her eyes are closed, head back, mouth open. “Fuck yes, God, I’m going to come, I’m… going to…”

“Shit,” he groans through gritted teeth, tensing his pelvic muscles for all they’re worth to hold back the orgasm that’s been threatening his body for such a long time. He wouldn’t be surprised if a tear rolled down his cheek from the exertion.

“Oh, God,” she breathes. “So wet, so good.”

“Yeah,” he manages, nothing more than a grunt. He’s sweating, heat swirling in his balls, trapped in there probably forever.

She pulls off of him and then she’s sucking his cock again, and despite his belt-buckled ankles he starts fucking her mouth and watching, sliding through those soft red lips like they’re her tiny little pussy.

“Take it,” he growls. She moans around his dick, letting him in deeper, and holy fuck it’s wet and tight in there and every other second he grazes her back teeth and fuck this, fuck this…  
Her mouth yanks away from him and he’s about to object when she starts jacking him off, harder than he’s ever done himself. “You can come now,” she says, licking her lips. She angles her body lower. “Right on my tits. Come on.”

“Fuck,” is his only reply. Fuck is his thought. His orgasm comes searing up, a lightning bolt release, and he forces his eyes open to watch as his come spurts onto her chest, each spasm a new ecstasy.

“Mmm, so much.” It’s dripping down his shaft while she keeps pumping him for more.

“You have to stop,” he begs as he feels his dick going soft. “I’m done. For now,” he quickly adds.

She sucks the cum off his cockhead. “I guess.” It’s a tease, a victory. Her breasts are gleaming with the evidence of their indiscretions. She notices him admiring and crawls up to put them in his face. He smells himself on her and, full circle, her hand grips his hair tightly as she steadies herself.

“Lick it off.”

He’s in no position to argue–not mentally, not physically. He’s never minded the taste of his own jizz, and as he runs his tongue along her nipples and the curves of her breasts he’s glad for this fact. She moans at the attention he’s giving her, soft moans that nearly sound like she’s going to come again.

“Mmm, you’re so good,” she purrs, ruffling his hair.

“I know.”

“You want your ankles free?”

“Preferably…”

She bounces off the bed, some kind of energy bursting forth while he languishes on the mattress in his own body-shaped dent. She frees his aching ankles and it’s such a sweet relief.

“You never told me how you practiced,” he says as she yanks up the bed sheet from the floor and settles down against his side, her fingers petting his chest.

She nestles her head into his shoulder, nose on his neck. She breathes in deeply, then relaxes more.

“Skinner.”


End file.
